


Damnit, Pidge

by spirkylurkey



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Feels, Fluff, Flustered Lance (Voltron), Getting Together, Just Keith freaking out and getting HYPE, Keith in makeup, Keith is bold AF, M/M, Pidge done fucked up, Pidge lets it slip, Really sickly sweet fluff, Romance, lgbt author, no angst whatsoever, probably irrelevant but eh, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 20:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirkylurkey/pseuds/spirkylurkey
Summary: Pidge has some top-secret-classified-don't-tell-Keith-info that she accidentally lets slip to, you guessed it, Keith. Lance is an embarrassed mess. Keith isn't faring much better, to be honest.





	Damnit, Pidge

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm aware of how soppy this is, what can I say, I'm a soppy gal. Just a brief break from the last chapter of JKUHE. xoxo

The thing that gets him, by God, is that this has happened before. From Lance himself, no less. They’ve all developed their own style of knocking, it’s a novelty, something to liven shit up, and Keith is most definitely not feeling guilt, okay. All he had done was walk up to Pidge’s door, coming to politely ask for an update on her progress with Matt, _to be a good friend_ , and as a joke, a joke many others had made before, even, tapped out Lance’s signature knock: as-much-of-Never-Gonna-Give-You-Up-before-somebody-starts-yelling. 

Pidge lets out a put-upon “ENOUGH” as a go-ahead, and it’s all downhill from there. Keith, still in the doorway, looks in at Pidge, tired face blue-lit from the vaguely laptop-shaped item in front of her, becoming, herself, a seeming hivemind with the wires tangled all around her. Without looking up or giving him the chance to speak, she sighs out, “Lance, I swear to god if you’re here to bitch about Keith’s ‘pretty eyes’ or his ‘dumb kissable mouth’ I am going to toss you out of the airlock with far more efficiency than a possessed Galra crystal could even hope to-“ she cuts off at Keith’s strangled noise, the first sound he’s managed to get out since the door opened in the first place.

At this, Pidge belatedly looks up, and about seven emotions go through her face at once, starting with shock and somehow bewilderingly landing at vague annoyance. Keith thinks, in the ensuing hysteria, that she has never looked more like Randall from Monsters Inc than she does in this moment: glare, glasses and all. Her eyes are guiltless and all-seeing as she flits over the blush high on his cheeks and says, “Don’t involve me in this, Kogane, I don’t want to hear it,” punctuating with a sharp tap to one of the keys on the not-laptop that sends the door sliding shut right in front of him, touching the tip of his nose as it whooshes by.  
Whatever, Keith thinks desperately, these doors aren’t soundproofed, so- “Pidge, don’t act like I don’t need an explanation out here, PIDGE,” he hollers. Predictably, no noise comes but for one singular, muffled snicker. So there he stands, aware of how stupid he looks; nose pressed to the door and face hot red with blush, fingers curling around nothing at his sides. 

Dumbly, blindly, he walks back to his room. It’s still morning after all, and he’s yet to shower, and y’know, _go through a panic in his bathroom_. So there he is, mirror still fogged around the edges, one hot shower having done him a slight bit of good. He is no longer actively freaking out, but he is also trying to blame his flushed cheeks on the hot water. He’s just standing there, feeling weirdly like his stomach has gone through an ice cream churn. He gets dressed carefully, which is stupid, so stupid, he owns three fucking outfits, and yes okay so what if one pair of pants is slightly more form-flattering than the others, who cares, oh my God. He ends up back in the bathroom, pinching his cheeks for a healthy glow (as if he fucking needs it with the flushing), rimming his eyes a little with the little pencil of surprisingly human-friendly Altean eyeliner. He feels so dumb, daubing on mascara that he hasn’t worn since their last fancy diplomatic mission, oh hell, but he’s smiling as he does it, He’s slipping his feet into his shoes and out of his room before he knows it, trying in vain to pretend he’s not messing with his hair; Lance has seen him half gutted on the ground in a bright-pink desert, sand in places where the sun doesn’t shine and hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, so why is he acting like he’s sixteen and he’s seeing Lance at the Garrison for the first time? He hasn’t even considered if Lance wants anything to actually come of this but he’s trying to tamp it down, telling himself that Lance has already admitted their friendship, and what even is a-a relationship other than best friends with kissing and…other things.

He rides on a wave or trademark Keith impulsiveness and rash decision making all the way to where Lance sits, groggy on a couch in the quiet common area with a glass of water in his hands and a yawn on his laps. He looks handsome, and, finally, like something Keith can have, and he feels greedy. “Lance,” he says, trying to bolster himself. 

“Hnn,” Lance responds, and okay, he thinks this might actually be better if Keith can get out everything he wants to say before Lance is too awake to be chattering like he normally does.

Keith stays standing, arms crossed a foot away from the couch Lance is currently sprawled on unceremoniously. “So you like me,” Keith says, and that wakes Lance up, makes him practically slide off the couch as he gulps in air, “I don’t I mean why would you-HUNK,” he says, suddenly murderous, about to spring up and go hunt him down himself. Keith, this once, lets himself think it’s cute and chuckles. Well, fuck it, “Pidge, actually,” he says, consequences be damned. Hunk doesn’t deserve whatever Lance is gearing up like roadrunner for. “Pidge,” Lance gasps, comically offended. Keith can’t blame him, Pidge is generally Fort Knox.

Lance deflates, his hand going to the back of his neck, rubbing abashedly. “So, you know,” he says, almost sad. “Look, I don’t want this to screw up morale or anything, I was never planning on-“ Keith abruptly realizes that he has crossed the room and hauled Lance up to his face with his fists in Lance’s shirt. “That’s- that’s the problem, dumbass,” he says, righteously angry, and Lance flinches back, and goddamnit, this is what Keith had wanted to avoid, his usual harshness, “No, no, not like that,” he says, and before he can stick his foot any fucking further into his mouth, he hauls off and kisses Lance, dragging him closer by his abused shirt and plastering his mouth onto his. 

Lance is frozen for about five full seconds, in which Keith waits impatiently for him, and then boy, does he go for it. It’s…toothier than he’d imagined his first kiss, and then somewhere in the middle, when it gets slicker and Lance is hotly panting into his mouth, it starts making his stomach go churny again.

“Keith,” Lance sighs, just shy of a moan, happy and breathless. Keith knows his cheeks are bright red, but who gives a shit anyways. He goes in for another kiss, but Lance slaps his hands on either side of his face before he makes it anywhere. Lance looks a bit surprised at himself for doing it, but still smooshes his cheeks and says, with surety, staring at his eyes and lips, “You are so, so fucking pretty, holy quiznack, be my space boyfriend.” 

Keith nods his assent, the hands traveling with his face. Lance, as if fulling realizing the absurdity, drops them like Keith’s face is on fire, which, okay, it kind of is. “Also my Earth boyfriend,” Lance adds, “eventually.” “Yes to both,” Keith says, quiet and soft. “Oh my god,” Lance groans, “torture. You and the…the fucking mascara and the smirk, I’m dying here Keith, warn a man, PLEASE,” and Keith is punching him in the arm, scowling half-heartedly at his stupid antics. Lance grabs his arm and yanks him in indelicately for another kiss. 

This, of, course, is the exact time Shiro, a man on a multi-tiered castle ship with very few other occupants and several empty rooms, comes strolling into their exact location. “Ah, ok,” he says, smiling. He gives them a thumbs up, a fucking thumbs up, and turns on his heel, walking out the way he came. “Of course,” Keith says, “of course Shiro.” He drops his head onto Lance’s shoulder, and tries not to smile when he feels the kiss dropped on the back of his head.


End file.
